


kaleidoscope

by kuribuddy (rikacain)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:03:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10681125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikacain/pseuds/kuribuddy
Summary: A series of vignettes into the lives of the women in yugioh.





	kaleidoscope

**Author's Note:**

> YGO duel links dragged me into this fandom
> 
> i know, i know - it's anime and there's problematic representation everywhere, it's fandom and there's always bashing the female bc of ships. don't get me wrong, i ship dem ships, but _still_. i just want more content about females in the ygo world ok
> 
> i-don't-know-what-the-fuck!verse, contains reference to both pre-dm manga!verse and orichalamalacos. i haven't looked at the source material in forever.
> 
> loosely inspired by the in defense of series by dirgewithoutmusic on ao3, but well. i'm not there.

This is not a story about friendship.

Friendship was Yuugi's story, Atem's and Jounouchi's and the rest of their stories. What people forget is that Anzu is not the first to value friends and the ties that bind people together, nor will she be the last. People deride her for the words that drip from other people's tongues (Yuugi, Jonouchi, her friends, her friends, her friends) - see her as the emotional one, for being the sole female in a group of males.  

What people don't see is that emotions are strong. Desperation drove Pegasus to resurrect his fiancee. Spite drove Kaiba to the top of the corporate world. Loneliness drove Yuugi to finish his puzzle, to stand against bullies and ask for friends. 

What people don't see is Anzu, Anzu standing for what she believes is important, what is right. People don’t see that words are just as important as actions, words that encourage and support and believe. Because sometimes you don’t act for other people, because all they are their own person, because all they need is trust and faith.

Anzu trusts. Anzu has faith

* * *

She gets rejected on her first application. 

Disappointment, but no surprise - her dreams are not a delusion, and Anzu knows about how being not-white and foreign tips the scale severely against her. Her friends notice nonetheless - Jonouchi and Honda awkwardly blusters that the school doesn't deserve her. Yuugi tells her to not give up.

She isn't angry. She isn't giving up. She thinks that of all of them, only Ryou understands - he sits besides her in sympathetic silence, which is what she needs right now.

She needs to work on her portfolio, on her audition video and her headshot. She needs to go back to the studio, to talk to someone who understands the industry. She needs, she needs, she needs. 

"Breathe," Ryou says, hesitant; a brief hand on her elbow in the river of her chaotic life before it lets go. 

Anzu breathes, and tries again. 

* * *

She was fifteen once. 

She remembers loving the idea of someone else so much she forgot to love herself, wanting to see them so much she put herself in danger; remembers the fear and the absolution when she heard her savior's voice yet again. 

She remembers being unsure in the face of grief, of treading wrongly where she should have been delicate - remembers Atem's haunted face with the loss of Yuugi, the loss of her friend. She had pushed it down, compressing it into a small black box and throwing it away. She had thought that strength was not faltering when others faltered, strength was showing happiness in the face of despair. 

Despair is not a weakness. Sadness is not a weakness. Anzu does not learn that then - she learns it later when they grieve, when she grieves, when Atem is gone. 

Anzu was fifteen once, and fifteen meant mistakes recalled in the middle of the night when unable to sleep. Fifteen meant she was young and reckless and brash, fifteen meant the other girls avoiding her for her loud voice when they matched the volume of the boys'.

Fifteen meant memories made and lessons learnt, and Anzu learns.

* * *

She keeps in contact with Mai, meets up with her when their paths intersect in the city of New York.

Mai is fierce, is independent, and Anzu thinks that she is so very lonely. 

(Anzu is fierce, is now independent, and the friends she know are a thousand miles away on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.)

But Anzu thinks that Mai is different, that Mai doesn't thrive on gentle words and meandering conversations. She thinks Mai is lonely, but she values her loneliness. Mai wants people to see her, if not as a threat then as someone to be respected.

Anzu doesn't see Mai as a threat, and Mai snaps pictures of sunsets and cocktails on cruise ships and skyscrapers. She snaps pictures of meandering roads and takes a brief moment to record street performers, raw skill inspiring and deflating. She sends them all to Anzu, captioning them 'saw this today' almost like an afterthought. 

Anzu sends her the New York skyline, sends her the flock of birds circling around a pier in big swooping circles when she takes the time to go out one day. She takes pictures of women going to marches, to protests and parades - women outspoken and fighting to carve themselves a place in this world.

'Reminds me of you,' she types, and sends.

* * *

Emotional strength is not a wall to protect. Walls crumble over time, weakens with every incident. You cannot pretend your emotions are not there.

Emotional strength is a tree that has weathered the storm - bending, bending, and yet it doesn't break. 

Anzu never breaks. 

* * *

She calls home every month. Her mother frets and worries, wanting her to call more; her father is stoic, letting her be. He understands, she thinks, understands the pull of a city and the thrill of a life away from home. She wonders if he wonders if she'll ever come back. 

She will, she will. Her roots are planted firm in the ground, and she does not trim her old branches to display the new ones.

"You can always come home," her mother tells her. "Anytime."

(And god, Anzu was tempted once in the first few months, living in a country where she could hardly find anyone who could speak Japanese, where the food from home was a shallow imitation of what she wants. She was tempted by the hollow feeling of her heart, of an ache sad and deep.)

But she is only into her second year, and the ache has subsided with new friends and classmates and dance partners. She has yet far to go. 

"When I'm done," Anzu promises, and holds to it. 

* * *

She doesn't pass every audition. She doesn't get callbacks for every application she sends in. She doesn't always succeed. 

She lets herself feel disappointed, let it swell - and then she lets go. She moves on. 

* * *

Maybe she finds love. 

Maybe she finds love in the streets of the city she comes to consider as a second home, in the firm but gentle hands of her dance partner. Maybe she finds love in the laugh of a close friend, or maybe she finds love in the deft hands of a card dealer. 

Maybe she finds love back in Domino, when Yuugi has grown and carries himself more confidently. Maybe they go out for coffee, and it progresses; maybe they go out for coffee, and they remain friends. 

Maybe she finds love elsewhere, anywhere. The world is wide and Anzu is defined by love, but not of other's. She has grown from fifteen and reckless - she knows to protect herself first. A relationship, platonic or romantic or anything in between, is only worth pursuing once she chooses herself. 

Or maybe she finds love with the steps and turns and the rhythms and beats, finds love in the way her body twists exactly how she wants. She finds love in casual conversations with friends on the couch, curled up with a mug of tea in her hands. 

The point is - she finds love, and that’s alright.

* * *

You can ask.

(Maybe she finds love, and their soothing voice reminds her of Atem; or its their skin dark under the shining sun; or its their eyes, sharp and piercing. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But if it does, it’s in the way she remember the musty scent of her childhood home, the playground before it was renovated, the high school she returns to for nostalgia’s sake.)

That too, is alright.

* * *

The world already looks down on women for not succeeding. The world already looks down on women for daring to try. 

Mazaki Anzu stares the world straight in its eyes. She does not need to do its job. She has better things to do.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu, i'm kuribuddy on tumblr too
> 
> (might update if i ever get around to writing more, i'm rusty af and not actually happy with what i wrote but i figure that i might as well post it)


End file.
